


Fictiophilia Meets Reality

by winsister91



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Female Masturbation, Pining, Smut, unprotected sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-15
Updated: 2019-05-15
Packaged: 2020-03-06 02:15:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18841576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/winsister91/pseuds/winsister91
Summary: Reader gets a hold of the Carver Edlund books and starts to crush on the very real Dean Winchester





	Fictiophilia Meets Reality

“Where the hell did you find those?” Dean asks wide-eyed. You’re sat at the table in the bunker, grinning with a pile of books next to you.  _Supernatural_  by Carver Edlund.

“Some second-hand store,” you chuckle as you flick through the pages, “Fifty cents each! Bargain if you ask me.”

Dean scoffs and barges past you while you continue giggling.

“Those damn books are the fucking bane of my existence,” he grumbles.

“Can you please take your mumblings elsewhere?” you pipe up in your best sarcastic authoritative voice, “I. Am.  _Reading!”_

He scoffs again and heads for his room while you grin like a school kid who just pranked the head teacher. You continue your reading. Sam and Dean had told you about these books before, how they were written by a prophet who turned out to be God himself (because  _that’s_ normal). Reading something in the guise of fiction that’s actually true? Pretty mind blowing really. You’d heard a lot of these stories from the boys themselves when they’d reminisced past hunts on whiskey fuelled nights. Nothing is influenced in these books though, nothing exaggerated, this is the legit, actual _God’s_ honest truth. Joking aside, you were honestly fascinated.

* * *

 

Days passed and you couldn’t put these damn books down, much to Sam and Dean’s protest. Every night it was becoming a guarantee that you would be found either in your room, on the couch or curled up in one of the big comfy leather chairs, nose deep in one of these things. Something was changing though. You’d known the boys a couple of years now and you were certainly fond of them, hell  _more_ than fond. Reading these books though, you were coming down with a major case of fictiophilia, and Dean was the culprit. One problem, however, he’s not fictional, the things he said and did in these stories, genuinely happened. Your brain was unsure how to deal with it. You’d be making yourself a coffee in the morning and he’d lean past you to grab a cup, his leathery scent filling your nostrils and making you internally swoon. Your eyes would drift over to him while he researched some lore, fixated on his lips which would subtlety move while he read, so full and no doubt soft and completely kissable. He wandered through the bunker after showering one day wearing nothing but a towel, you thought you were gonna explode at the sight of that glistening, toned, damn fine body.

“I’m a freaking fangirl,” you painfully mumble to yourself after you swiftly retreated from the freshly showered Dean scenario, “Which is  _fine_ , but he’s real! And now I’m talking to myself!”

You sigh heavily and throw yourself onto your bed, shoving your face into the pillow and groaning.  

* * *

 

Not long passes and you find yourself engrossed back in the books, ignoring your brain telling you you’re obsessed.  
  
“Cassie?” you mumble, “Dean’s never mentioned a Cassie before…”

You work your way through more pages, jealousy pangs hitting you in your guts. Dean clearly liked her a lot, he’d had a  _relationship_ with this girl. That’s just unheard of. More pages and the next thing you know, your reading a pretty steamy, hella graphic sex scene.

“Phew! Dean Winchester you little slut,” you blink rapidly. Every word sinking in, how held her, how he kissed her even the damn positions they did. You can feel your cheeks flushing and your body coming alive.  _Screw it,_ you think, tearing off your clothes and diving under your bedsheets.  
  
Laying the book aside, you recreate what you just read in your mind, putting yourself in Cassie’s shoes. You start working on your breasts, imagining Dean’s hands instead of yours. If there was anything you praised yourself on, it was your active imagination. You’re stupidly turned on, one hand staying on the breasts and the other making its way down south to draw little circles around your throbbing clit. Moans begin to escape you as you arch your back and become completely lost in your imaginary scene.

There’s a tap on your door and you bolt upright.

“You okay in there?” You hear Dean’s voice on the other side.

“Just fine!” you lie, images of yourself dragging him in and ravaging him forcing their way into your mind, “I’m uh…going to call it a night!”

“It’s like 9 pm,” you hear him laugh, “You’re reading those damn books again aren’t you?”

“No!” you try to mock laugh but it’s the most unconvincing sound you think you’ve ever made.

There’s a click as the door handle turns and you panic, diving fully under the sheets, gasping as your heart beats at a million miles per hour in panic.

You can hear his footsteps as he walks across the room, you’re breathing becoming uncontrollable from nerves.

“Are you hiding from me?” you hear him chuckle.

“I’m trying to sleep!” you lie…again.

“Yeah with the light on and very suspicious sounding moaning,” he argues, but you can hear the smile in his voice, “What do you know, one of the books right here.”

You freeze, remembering that you left it open on that scene.

“What bit are you up to then?” he teases, and you can hear the rustle of paper as he picks up the book.

“NO!” you squeal, lunging out from under the sheets and grabbing the book from him. He’s wide-eyed, looking you up and down, wearing nothing but a bathrobe and boxers. You remember your own  _lack_  of attire and squeak, pulling the sheets back up to preserve your dignity.

“Well well,” his eyes light up and a smirk appears on his face, “Now I’ve  _got_ to know what bit you were on.”

He jumps for the book, causing you to squeal again and dive under the sheets with it. He climbs onto the bed and straddles you, pulling the sheets down and you have no choice but to drop the book and cross your arms to cover yourself.

“Dean,” you whimper as you feel your core aching from having Dean practically sat on you.  
  
“Cassie…” he sounds reminiscent as he looks down the page, “That night was hot.”

“Look, I was just reading and I  _happen_  to sleep naked so let’s just forget this okay?” you try to talk out of this.

You spot his eyes darken and he throws the book aside. Your heart leaps into your throat as he leans down to you, his hands placed either side of your head for balance. You are well and truly trapped.

“You’re into me,” he hushes into your ear, sending tingles down your spine.

“W-what?” is the only thing you can think to say.

“You haven’t been able to keep your eyes off me when you’re not lost in those books,” he continues to whisper, breathing onto your neck and making goosebumps rise, “You were having a little  _play_ , weren’t you? Imagining me.”

You gulp, you can already feel yourself practically drenched down there. You try to pull yourself together and pluck up something feisty.

“S-so what if I was?” you tilt your head, “What're you gonna do about it Dean?”

He smiles again, but this time there’s a hunger in it. He presses his lips to yours forcefully, instigating an instant moan from you into his mouth. His tongue meets yours as you both explore each other. He takes your hands, moving them from your breasts and holding them above your head. You blush, partly from how turned on you are, partly feeling self-conscious.

“You don’t need to imagine anymore,” he growls.

_Is this happening?_

Holding your hands tight, he kisses down your neck, small gasps escaping you with each peck. Each kiss becomes more rough, biting, sucking, marking. He goes over your collarbone and keeps going down. You flinch from sensitivity as a tongue starts to play with your nipple, followed by more sucking, getting hungrier and forceful. His movements build up very quickly and you’re soon arching and desperately wanting to touch him, but his grip is firm.

“Relax,” he coos, “This is all about you baby, you’re not doing a thing.”

He moves one hand, the other big enough to hold both of your wrists in place. He traces a line with a finger down the middle of your body and keeps going until he reaches your entrance. He teases, stroking your folds and his thumb gently rubbing at your clit. The sensitivity coursing through you makes you squirm, biting your lip and throwing your head back. It’s a pleasurable agony of want. Two fingers enter you, curved perfectly as he slowly pushes in, brushing your sweet spot.

“Oh fuck,” you groan, still debating whether this is a dream or not. If your hands were free you’d be pinching yourself to make sure.

He grunts, taking pleasure at your reaction, he bites at your neck again while he pulls down his boxers. You see his erect cock spring free from the elastic and you gasp as your body trembles with need. He kisses you again, deep and rough, while he lines up.

“Tell me you want it,” he growls into your ear, the tone of his voice alone sparks an involuntary buck of your hips.

“I-I…please Dean,” you manage to stutter between breaths. His green eyes are locked onto yours and you realize that a reality with Dean is better than anything you could ever imagine.

He obliges, pushing himself in. He fills you up completely, stretching you. He releases your hands and grabs your hips as he thrusts. Now it’s his turn to gasp. He grunts and clenches his eyes as he pumps in and out. Every thrust brings a moan from you, each time he hits that sweet sweet spot without fail and it drives you crazy. You grind along with him, pushing your hips up to make him hit even deeper. Your hands now free, they rub up against his body, one reaches around and tugs at his gorgeous light brown hair, the other digging nails into his back. He starts to moan, driving you even more crazy as you feel his fingers pushing deeper into your skin. You’re tightening, holding your breath in an attempt to prolong yourself. This just heightens it even more, the lack of oxygen driving the sensitivity to maximum. Dean begins to growl and grunt erratically, pumping into you even faster and harder. You can feel his cock inside you throbbing, getting close just like you.

“FUCK Y/N!” he bellows, pushing himself as deep as he can and holding you there as you feel his warmth fill you. You cry out, the pressure in you exploding and you can see white stars. The orgasm is lengthy and strong, coursing through you like twenty tidal waves.

You both gaze at each other while you gasp for breath.

“Okay…so  _that_  was real,” you manage to laugh.

“I guess so,” he laughs back, “I’ve waited so long for this.”

He gently pulls away, causing a little whine from you at the sensation from him leaving your pussy.

He drops next to you, and you both stare at the ceiling, breathing deeply to slow your heart rates.

“You gonna stop reading those damn books now?” he asks with a cheeky smile.

“Is that what this is all about?” you giggle.

“Nah, happy coincidence,” he answers, turning onto his side to look at you, “I just happened to be in the right place at the right time tonight.”

“You’re damn right there,” you sigh in content, eyelids becoming heavy, “You’ll…stay here tonight right?”

Dean lays an arm around you and pulls you close, his head nuzzling into your neck, “I’m not going anywhere, Sweetheart.”

**Author's Note:**

> *smirk* I have issues, and I love them.


End file.
